Silly Rabbit
by fangirlu
Summary: Joss loses a bet, and John couldn't be happier.


**A/N: ** This one-shot was conceived from a picture that Taraji posted on her Instagram page. The story basically popped fully formed into my head first thing Saturday morning, and wouldn't go away until I got it down. This is the result. Thanks to PiscesChikk for posting the pic and SWWoman for planting the seed that became this story. And as carolinagirl919 says...#CareeseIsEternal.

Here's the link to the picture for anyone who wants to see what inspired this one-shot. Just take out all of the spaces and remove the ee's from the t's (lol) - h tee tee p : / / instagram p / t84tp0uuIh / ? modal = true

**Disclaimer:** As usual, not mine.

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><p>"You're stalling, Joss. You lost fair and square. It's time to pay up." John smirked across the cluttered tabletop, watching with amusement as his lovely detective picked at the remnants of a bacon and egg breakfast she'd finished eating at least ten minutes ago.<p>

Laying down her fork, she pushed aside her plate, folded her arms in the cleared space in front of her and leaned toward him. "You cheated."

"No—I won. I worked the last number without kneecapping anyone." Turning up the wattage on his smile, he mirrored her posture, gladly allowing himself to be pulled into her orbit. He also noted somewhere in the back of his mind that, as usual, the sounds in the busy diner faded away leaving only the two of them in their own little world.

"True, but you did shoot him in the shoulder."

"Avoiding upper body shots wasn't our bet."

"I meant you should avoid _all_ body shots."

"That's not what you said." He gave her a careless shrug. "Besides, if I hadn't shot him, he might have shot you. And, bet or no bet, I wasn't going to let that happen."

By the pronounced glower that accompanied her soft sigh, he could see that it was quickly dawning on her that he wasn't about to let her off easy. He snatched up the soft scrap of fabric from its hiding place beside his thigh and placed it in front of him. She looked down at it, and it was all he could do not to laugh out loud. It was if he'd plopped the carcass of week-old roadkill on the table instead of a simple hat.

He'd discovered it on a trip to the store to pick up a new basketball for Taylor. It had been hanging innocently on an end cap, the only one of its kind among an entire display of headgear. Dangling beside the coal blacks and midnight blues of its mates, the stark white material had stood out like a star shining brightly in the night sky.

John had almost left it hanging there, but it had kept calling out to him, the image of it perched on Joss' head refusing to leave him alone. Until this very morning, the hat had sat in his loft unworn, cheerfully decorating the oak night table beside his bed.

"Come on…it's not that bad," he teased.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one that has to wear it."

"It's just a hat, Joss."

"If it was just a hat, you wouldn't have had to win a bet just to get me to wear it."

"Serves you right for not believing in me."

Exhaling noisily, Joss held out a small hand. "Just give me the damn thing, John."

"Nope," he said, pulling it out of her reach.

Her eyebrows dipped downward in confusion. "What? I thought you wanted me to put it on."

"I do, but _I_ get to do the honors."

"No." Shaking her head, she leaned back against worn vinyl bench seat and folded her arms across her chest. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"My bet, my rules."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are completely insufferable. You know that?"

"Only when it comes to you, detective," he said, his smirk planted firmly in place.

They stared at each other, the tension that always seemed to surround them ratcheting up a few notches. When the waitress appeared in his peripheral vision with a stainless-steel carafe of coffee, John didn't even bother to glance in her direction. His eyes remaining locked firmly on Joss, he shook his head, and sensing that she was intruding, the young woman quickly scurried away.

Unable to help himself, his eyes journeyed downward, coveting the curve of her full lips. It had been nearly three months since he'd kissed her in that morgue, and even such a small taste of her had haunted him. He'd planned on a repeat—of the kiss and so much more—but because of the increased scrutiny she'd received after her courageous takedown of HR, he'd decided to wait.

But he wasn't planning on waiting much longer. He couldn't. And judging by the way her expression softened when she looked at him, especially when she thought he wasn't paying attention, he suspected if he didn't, she would.

When his gaze returned to hers, her eyes widened slightly, as if she'd known exactly what he'd been thinking. He flashed a small smile, wordlessly letting her know that she'd been one-hundred percent right and that he felt zero shame about where his thoughts had just taken him.

"Fine," she said, and he had a feeling she was trying to break the spell that had briefly fallen over them. But the subtle softening of her voice had given her away. "Let's get this over with."

John returned her smile with a soft one of his own. "You're putting on a hat, Joss, not taking a slow walk to the guillotine."

"I'm not sure there's a difference," she retorted, eyeing the hat warily.

He didn't try to hold back his surprised laugh. "I promise this won't hurt a bit." He leaned over the table, careful to avoid knocking into the mug of half-finished, lukewarm coffee sitting beside his elbow. Though it wasn't strictly necessary for his purposes, he couldn't resist tucking both sides of her hair behind her ears. He let his fingers linger far longer then he needed to, skimming the tips lightly over and around the shell of her ear. Her skin darkened as a flush crept across her face.

Reluctantly pulling his hand away, he swallowed hard reminding himself that they were in public. "Are you ready?"

He hadn't meant for his voice to come out so low, so gravelly, but it was too late to take it back now. Not that he wanted to anyway. She was staring directly into his eyes, enchanting him in that way that only she seemed capable of. He often wondered if she knew what kind of affect she had on him.

"You better get on with it before I change my mind," she joked, but there was a breathy quality to her voice that was unmistakable.

Giving himself a mental shake, he pulled the hat down onto her head gently, tugging at it lightly so that it fit snugly and evenly. When he was satisfied, he sat back to get a good look at his handiwork before grinning. Widely. He couldn't help it.

"You look—"

"Don't say it," Joss interrupted, holding up a threatening finger.

"Adorable," John finished tenderly. "You look absolutely adorable."

She also looked damn beautiful, but he kept the thought to himself. Just as he'd envisioned, the white cable-knit fabric looked great against her dark hair and honey-brown skin. But the main attraction, the attribute that had grabbed his attention in the first place, was the real reason he loved the look on her so much. It was also the reason she'd been so resistant to wearing it.

Two huge pom-poms, roughly the size and shape of generously rolled snowballs, sat jauntily beside each other on the crown of her head. Even under the diner's harsh, florescent lights, she looked radiant. Like the world's most delectable bunny rabbit. Her red button shirt down contrasted merrily with the snow-white hat, making her look as if she was ready for the holiday season two months early. Her brown eyes were huge as she looked at him, and he felt such a strong urge to lean across the table and kiss her that he had to bite down on his tongue to snap himself out of it.

"I _promise_ I'm going to get you back for this, John."

"It was well worth the risk, Joss. More than worth it, actually." Pulling his cell phone out of his inside jacket pocket, he refrained from telling her that her answering frown was just as adorable as the rest of her. He didn't want to push his luck.

"What are you doing?" She was looking at the phone suspiciously, and if he didn't know better, he could swear she was starting to inch her way closer to the wide aisle.

"I've never been one for taking selfies, but…?" He held out the phone and raised a brow in silent question. Taking a picture with her wasn't one of his smartest ideas, but he'd be kicking himself later if he didn't take the chance to freeze this moment in time.

"Is this another one of your rules?"

"No. This one is your call."

Regarding him silently, Joss raised a hand to her head and absently ran her fingers over the soft fabric nestled there. Finally, she nodded in agreement, spearing him with a sharp gaze as he moved from his side of the booth to slide in beside her. "But if you ever show it to anyone, I'll kneecap you myself."

"Noted," he acknowledged with a chuckle, but she had nothing to worry about. This memory was for him and him alone.

Sliding into her personal space, John leaned close to her. So close that the light scent of her jasmine perfume would cling to him for the rest of the day. He didn't mind a bit. In fact, in his estimation, having a tangible reminder of her while he went about his day was akin to hitting the jackpot. He'd probably have to endure some teasing from Shaw and a few curious glances from Finch, but he didn't care.

He was surprised but quite pleased when Joss pressed closer to him, sliding an arm across his stomach and pressing her temple against his cheek. Not about to question his good luck, he slid an arm around her shoulders, relishing the moment as he held up the camera and quickly snapped several pictures.

They didn't speak again until they were standing outside in the bright, early-morning sunlight. Pedestrians hurried past them, their heads bent low over phones or iPods as they rushed to begin their day.

He watched as Joss hunched her shoulders under her black, wool coat and raised a hand to lightly run her fingers over the hat she was miraculously still wearing. He would've thought she'd snatch it off the minute she'd gotten the chance.

"It's not even that cold out," she mumbled, but still didn't move to take it off.

Smiling inwardly, he felt himself falling even harder.

"I'd better get going," she said, squinting up at him. "I promised Fusco I'd stop for pastries this morning. If I show up without them, he'll pout for the rest of the day."

He reached up and tugged lightly on a pom-pom. "You better make sure you take this off before Lionel sees you or you'll never live it down."

"Yeah." Her nose wrinkled, and from the look on her face, she didn't much like the thought of it. "I'll remember."

Shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, he shifted on his feet. He didn't want to say goodbye just yet, but he knew she had a regular schedule that she needed to keep. "I'll call you later."

"Okay. And thanks for the hat."

"Anytime."

"Hey," she called out, causing him to pause just as he'd begun to turn away. Her expression was earnest and open. "Can you send me a copy of that picture?"

His heart skipped a beat, but he managed to keep his expression under control. "Done."

They turned away from each other in tandem, each drifting off in the opposite direction. He only made it a few feet before he began grinning like a damn fool. And although he could no longer see her face, he knew without a doubt that Joss was smiling too.


End file.
